


Run, Little Devil, run

by hys_terry



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recreational Drug Use, Swearing, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-07-10 07:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hys_terry/pseuds/hys_terry
Summary: After getting rid of Michael for good, Jack comes in contact with his first friend ever. Everything seems to be going well until Jack uses the last sliver of his soul and gets himself in a big mess, that (ir)redeemably destroys connection to his family.Beta-reader/co-writer: sa5nthunderheadrev (Tumblr) (NOT ABANDONED! I intend to finish this. )





	1. Chapter 1

Ever since Michael was gone for good, the life in the Bunker wasn't so hectic as it was before. Apart from the occasional hunt, one could say it was almost peaceful. 

At the moment Dean was playing chef in the kitchen preparing home-cooked junk food while singing Can't Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon. Well, at least he tried to. In Sam's humble opinion, it sounded more like he was trying to get rid off a rice grain stuck in his throat. “Fair enough,” said Dean to this not-so-constructive criticism.

Jack was sitting by the table in the strategy room, kindly renamed as the living room, even though it was still missing a big plasma TV and a sofa big enough for all of them. 

The young Nephilim, as a proper teenager, spent most of his time on his phone. A proper one with touch screen, not a burner phone where you have to press number 7 four times just to get the letter 's'.

As Sam entered the room with his laptop, Jack was giggling at something happily. Sam raised an eyebrow at that. Everyone Jack knew was currently in the Bunker. 

"You know that you can just talk with people face to face when they’re in the same building, right?" he remarked as he sat on the opposite side of the table. Jack locked his phone and placed it screen down on the table.

"Well, yeah, but he isn't in the same building. Not even the same state to be precise." Yet again, Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Who are you chatting with?"

"Clark.” At Sam’s look of confusion, Jack added quickly, “Barker. The boy that got stabbed because of me. I found him on Facebook and — " 

"You have a Facebook?" Sam interrupted him, getting more and more surprised with every passing minute at everything his foster-son said.

"Well, of course, I do!" Jack exclaimed as if it was custom for two-year-olds to have a Facebook profile. "I wanted to ask him about his well-being. It's not like we had a chance to exchange phone numbers before we drove away. Not that I knew about phones back then." He laughed shortly at the memory of how they met and how confused and dumb he must have appeared to the teenage boy.

"Oh. Okay. Just don't accept friend requests from people you don't know." He trailed off into silence, thinking. "Do you have a profile picture?" 

Jack nodded and picked up his phone. Tapping his thumbs on the screen a few times and then turning it Sam's direction. The screen featured a picture of Ahsoka. Sam started laughing. "You look good in this one!" he joked lightly.

Jack frowned at this and locked the phone again. 

Sam opened his laptop to do what he originally wanted to : look for a case. A few silent minutes passed, filled only by the soft sound of Sam's fingers lightly tapping on the keys. Then, without warning, Jack suddenly came alive and addressed the hunter with a question, making Sam jump with his enthusiasm.

"I was thinking. Can I invite him over? The truth is, I'm bored of being holed up here in the Bunker. And you won't take me on hunts anymore! I understand why, but I want something to do here." Sam closed the laptop to get a better view of Jack and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. 

"If his mom is okay with that, then so am I. Won't he be bored, though? This place isn't exactly interesting for teenagers. At least not for those who have no interest in ghosts and such." In truth, Sam didn’t particularly want another kid to worry about, let alone one who didn’t know what he was getting into.

Jack gave him a look that said 'I, a teenager, am perfectly aware this place is indeed not suitable for us, teenagers'.

"I was thinking about getting a PlayStation 3 and some board games. Or maybe going out. Just around town," he added quickly as Sam tensed at the idea. Jack went silent for a minute, looking away from Sam’s eyes. "I just really want to talk with him and see him," he added sadly. He really needed someone to talk to. Someone who wasn't a parental figure, which at this point was almost everyone he knew. Of course, there was that group of kids in town, but they made it crystal clear they didn't want him around. He still hadn't told his fathers about that. Sam had told Jack to be careful in town, and he still had no idea that Jack had even tried to make friends.

Sam studied Jack's face before he finally agreed on the terms.

"Ok. Let's have normal visitors for a change. Text him and we can go pick him up." Sam smacked his palms on the table to make it official and final decision. 

The positive outcome of their negotiation made Jack smile broadly, and it got Sam a tight hug around his shoulders from the young Nephilim. 

That evening Jack immediately FaceTimed with the other boy and cheerfully announced the news. 

"That's rad!" Clark exclaimed. "I'll get myself out there somehow. I thought it was gonna be a bigger problem to get them to agree. They sound pretty strict."

"Well, I asked Sam. He usually at least tries to work with me. And they're not strict, only careful. Now that I have my powers back, you'll be safe. They don't need to worry," Jack assured his friend, who now had a confused expression. 

"You lost them?" Clark asked, furrowing his brows slightly. Jack totally forgot that he hadn't told him what had happened previously in his life. As far as Clark was concerned, Jack had spent the past two years being his angelic self, the same kid that Clark had seen standing naked in front of a diner talking to a plastic pirate.

"Well, yeah." he offered hesitantly. "My real father slit my throat and stole my Grace. It's all okay now, though. He's dead, and I'm no longer dying." he smiled at the phone screen toothily. Clark, in contrast, looked as mortified as ever. 

"Fuck! That sounds like a wild ride!"

"It was. At one point I really was dead! I met my mom.." he thought about the experience for a second, staring pensively at a spot somewhere in the upper corner of his bedroom. "..so it wasn't that horrible after all." He finally looked back at the screen. Clark had his thumb and index finger on his eyes, pressing hard enough that Jack could see the wrinkles through the phone.

"Why am I even surprised? I should've known the moment I saw you. That you're certainly SOMETHING." He added after noticing Jack's confused head tilt.

Even though Jack still didn't know what exactly Clark meant by that, he left the topic.

"So when can I expect you?"


	2. Chapter 2

Two days had passed since the boys settled on having a sleepover. Since then, Jack managed to stock the Bunker with all kinds of cereals, sweets, and sugary drinks, and he’d bought the promised console with the most recent games on top of it all. Even though Dean was against it. He was perfectly aware they get all of their money from limitless credit cards, but he didn’t feel exactly comfortable spending it on unnecessary luxuries. To which Sam reminded him he wanted to buy himself a life-sized action figure of the Hatchetman. After that, Dean didn’t have a choice but to buy Jack the console. At least he added RDR2 for himself as well.

His ecstatic mood, however, annoyed the rest of the family except for Castiel. He was honestly relieved that his son is still able to experience happiness or anything for that matter.

Clark still insisted on his own transportation, which made Dean glad, since it was three days worth of travel to North Cove, Washington and back, and frankly, who has time for that?

Clark was supposed to arrive at noon at the bus station, which was located on the other side of town, and that meant Dean had to be their chauffeur. Jack begged Dean to let him drive, but no way Dean was going to allow that.

"No! I know you,  _ teenagers _ . You'll try to impress him by burning the tires or something, and frankly, I can't have that." He pronounced the word 'teenagers' with such disdain it made Jack smile and drop the topic for now. 

As noon got closer, Jack's good mood got even more unbearable, but all the adults agreed that it was good for Jack to hang out with someone who didn't have 'hunter's depression', as they called it. It seemed like the horror that had been going on their whole lives and ages before was going to end soon, and then Jack could experience normal things. Of all in their little family, Jack still had the best chance to integrate into society.

Finally, Jack and Dean set off. The older of the two was completely still, in contrast to the teenager, who either fidgeted in his seat, constantly checking his reflection in his phone, or going once again over the house rules the brothers had set for the special occasion. All of the rules were basically just 'avoid danger' but phrased all differently.

"Hey!" Clark waved at the hunters as he got off the bus and headed towards them.

Jack jogged the short distance between them and opened his arms in an invitation for a hug, which confused the other boy, who didn't react at first, but after the initial shock, he hugged him. It was awkward because both of them went for a different kind of hug, which they laughed off. When parting, Clark ruffled Jack's floppy hair. 

"How was the ride?" asked Jack through a tiny lump in his throat. Clark was still as bright as he had been the day they’d first met.

"I'd say it was pretty good. If you don't mind the bumpy-ness. And sun trying to burn off your face through the window. So… yeah. It was normal. Glad it's over though." He said with a smirk as he adjusted the bag hanging on his shoulder.

They stood there awkwardly for a while until Dean got an excellent idea to head back. It didn't escape Jack that Dean had announced that offer with a noticeable rolling of his eyes.

The car ride was quite awkward as well. Talking to each other through Facebook was one thing, but face-to-face communication needed a little bit of practicing before they got comfortable around each other properly. Back in North Cove two years ago, it was so easy when Clark had thought Jack was high on crack and was in the safe space of his hometown where he was pretty confident. Now, knowing WHO Jack was made him insanely nervous. Excited, but nervous. 

He was no longer a notorious rebel with a mother who could get him out of any trouble just because she’s the sheriff. He was far from home and in the presence of Satan's literal spawn.

"So," started Dean, breaking the silence once again. "How's the wound?"  _ Idiot _ , he scolded himself as soon as he asked such a stupid question. Thankfully, Clark didn't seem too insulted.

Clark nervously scratched his neck. "Well, I spent a month in the hospital. It was pretty deep, but I was lucky. If that angel bitch had better aim it would've gone straight through my heart." Clark started to speak so passionately, that it surprised both hunters. Jack looked at Dean in the rear-view mirror with one raised eyebrow in a question.

"It hurts sometimes though," Clark murmured, dropping his gaze as if ashamed.

"I bet." Jack ended the conversation subtly.

Finally, they pulled up to the Bunker and Jack helped his friend with his luggage. When they got inside, he bolted straight into his room. Clark stared at the spot where his friend disappeared, and he quickly said hello to the rest of the residents and ran after Jack. 

When he stepped into his room he was greeted with quite an unpleasant view. The walls were completely bare. If it wasn't for bedsheets and one framed picture on a bedside table, he wouldn't have guessed that he'd stepped into an occupied room, let alone one of a teenager. 

"Do you even live here?" His eyes were still searching for a sign of any other personal belongings-- a sock on the floor, an empty bag of potato chips, anything. 

Jack looked at him with a raised eyebrow as if Clark was the weird one and just lost his short-term memory.

"It's not normal to have such an... empty room. Tidy even," he added.

"Well, I don't spend much time here. I don't need to sleep much and we spend most of our time on hunts. And I don't like hiding in my room anyway, I prefer being in close proximity to others. The library, for instance. I like sitting in a quiet space close to someone who's also reading up on some lore and such."

"That's a lot of words for 'I'm clingy as fuck." 

Something akin to hurt flashed across Jack's face at the words. Was it a bad thing to want to spend time with his family? To want another's company rather than being alone?

Clark noticed the change in Jack's demeanor faster than he would've believed capable, immediately jumping to remedy it. "Not that-- I just mean--." He paused and sighed in exasperation at himself, but he recovered quickly. Lord, face-to-face talking had gotten hard. "I just mean that most kids our… most teenagers would rather be alone than hanging out with older people. I know I'm like that sometimes, and I get borderline douchey."

Jack furrowed his brows and looked away from Clark. Wonderful. This boy thought he was strange, too.

Jack thought for a moment about arguing back but then decided against it. Clark just got here, no need to get ugly about anything. Clark was supposed to be his friend.

“Is that your mom?” Clark pointed to a framed picture on the bedside table and crossed the short distance to pick it up. The lack of consent being asked before he picked it up mildly annoyed the Nephilim, but he just assumed it was normal for friends to just grab each other’s belongings. Noted. 

“Yes, she is.” he smiled fondly, thinking about her. 

“You have her lips,” he commented while putting it neatly down. "You met her, huh?"

"Kind of…" Jack responded, remembering his brief time in Heaven.

"That's nice. My father died when I was five. No goodbye, no closure, nothing. Just an open-casket funeral and relatives I haven't met since telling me their  _ sincere condolences _ ." He air-quoted the last words and dropped onto the inflatable mattress Jack had prepared that morning. 

Many words swirled inside Jack's head, but none seemed appropriate. It was clear that Clark didn't care for cliché phrases, and telling him he might see his father in Heaven didn't seem right. 

Thankfully, before they could dig themselves further into their depressing conversation, Sam knocked on the door to announce that dinner was ready.

The number of awkward silences since Clark arrived indicated that he clearly didn't fit in with their overall vibe. Even though he knew about the supernatural, the members of the bunker still couldn't bring out their usual topics such as whether or not Michael was really gone or where the hell God was.

Jack almost felt bad for the boy, being so lost around this life of monsters and magic. He was supposed to be normal, just a kid, yet here he was surrounded by strangers and strange things that he never even knew existed.

That was why Jack decided to excuse himself and Clark as soon as they had both finished their dinner.

After the door closed behind them, Jack turned to his friend with a question that had been sitting in his head for a bit.

"Why did you insist so much on getting here by yourself? Sam and Dean travel across the States all the time. It wouldn't have been a problem to come pick you up. At least we would have known you had a safe trip. And you sounded horrified when I mentioned we'd come to the North Cove to pick you up." 

Clark sighed and heavily sat on the bed. "I don't like bothering people. It's a long trip, man. It's trouble enough for your…” Clark waved his hand towards the door of the room, “dads having me here for a week. Would have been too much."

Jack nodded as if he understood the reason, but he still wasn’t convinced. 

"Plus, the bus you came on departed from Chicago." Jack crossed his arms on his chest when Clark made a choking sound, confirming Jack's accusations.

"Fuck, man! Are you FBI or something?!" he stood up and opened his arms in frustration. 

"Trainee, yes. Now tell me what's going on."

"Maybe I don't want to. Maybe the reason I didn't tell you has nothing to do with you." Clark was slowly raising his voice. He didn't want to yell at the Nephilim, purely because his guardians would burst in and start asking questions too. They’d probably pick him up by his throat for stressing their son. 

He forced himself to calm down. "Just drop it, okay? I'll tell you, but" he sighed heavily. "just let me enjoy some quality time with my friend, please. We can dig through our traumas later." 

Finally, Jack let it go and asked Clark if he wanted to plug in the PlayStation. After five hours of battling in Rocket League, they passed out on the inflatable mattress they were sitting on. Well, Clark passed out. Jack just decided to. Since he burnt off most of his soul, he needed sleep even less than before, but he figured that sixty hours of consciousness was pushing it even so. 

Dean had a similar problem. He still had trouble sleeping. Michael kept coming back to him in his dreams to taunt him, telling him that this life of his was all a dream, his imagination, trapped in the corner of his mind where he will stay. Rationally, he knew how to assure himself that this was all real. Michael was dead, but Dean still woke up in puddles of his own sweat. 

He was walking around the Bunker, checking up on his loved ones. He gently opened the door to Jack's room, which had been pretty loud just a few minutes ago. What he saw was a picture-worthy moment. The Nephilim boy was curled in a fetal position, one hand in his hair, loosely grabbing one strand, while his friend was sprawled on his back, one hand around Jack's elbow and the other still gripping a controller. The fact that Jack wore a Star Wars pajamas only helped to make the view even more comic. 

He laughed quietly to himself and snapped a quick photo. The sound effect of the phone camera made Clark stir in his sleep, but he went right back to hugging Jack's elbow. 

"This is going in the album."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being innactive to those, who asked me for another chapter..to both of you :D Still have a lot on my plate but thanks to an amazing editor and friend, I still feel finishing my vision whatever it takes :D I'd appreciate some comments, criticism, anything below ♥ I'm drawing a cute picture for the scene at the end of this chapter. Might add it under later or rather add it as a bonus to the NEXT CHAPTER!


End file.
